


forget me nots

by advisortotheadvisor



Category: The Sisters Grimm - Michael Buckley
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Memory Loss, Sabrina's passed out the whole time sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18529117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advisortotheadvisor/pseuds/advisortotheadvisor
Summary: Magic is unfeeling and the horn of the north wind is no exception. There is always an equal and opposite reaction, a price that must be paid and Tobias Clay always seems to be on the receiving end.Or, an au of the sixth book where the kazoo solves one problem and causes another.





	forget me nots

**Author's Note:**

> *walks into dead fandom a year later with some angsty bs au* sup
> 
> Uhhh okay so I was thinking abt how Canis and red couldnt remember everything abt before they were kazoo'd and was like "what if that happened every time you used it on someone" and this kind of...spawned.

Magic is not flawless, unfailing, boundless. It has limits. For all it gives, it takes as much away. For all it creates, it destroys in equal quantity.

Magic only cares about balance.

Many equate this as fairness. They are fools for it. Magic does not care about just or unjust, or about what people deserve. It cares about you paying for what you've used and little else.

Magic demands to be paid back; pity those who ask it for too much.

* * *

 Daphne bit her lip anxiously as she stared at the unconscious form of her sister. Sabrina was stretched out on the bed in Red Riding Hood's grandma's cabin, snoring softly. Daphne might have been mad at Sabrina, but never enough to want her to get seriously hurt. Definitely not for her to get possessed by the Big Bad Wolf. But, everyone was fine now and the Wolf was contained in a small Mason jar sitting on the bedside table.

“Sabrina will be okay, right, Granny?” she asked.

Relda smiled at her soothingly. “I’m sure she will be alright, liebling.” But no amount of reassurances could mask the concern in her eyes as she waited vigil by her granddaughter’s bedside.

A creak of the door interrupted their worrying, sounding louder due to the somber silence of the cabin.

Standing there was a man, tall and skinny with wild white hair that gave him the appearance of someone who routinely stuck his fingers in electrical sockets.

“Mr. Canis!” Daphne squealed, her voice jumping to a frequency only dogs could hear.

She threw herself at him in a wild, tackling hug that would've knocked over anyone else. She smushed her face into his chest and locked her arms tight around him.

“I’m so glad you're okay!” she said, a sentiment muffled by the man's shirt.

“Um.” Was the eloquent reply from above her.

Daphne realized that Canis still wasn't returning her hug, which was very mucho rude-o of him. Even when he was all Wolf-y and grouchy, he'd still give her an awkward pat on the head before prying her off and telling her to go play with Sabrina. But now he was just standing stiffly like a board. A very tall board wearing a suit.

“Do I know you?” he asked, confusion coloring his voice.

Huh, Daphne thought Mr. Canis didn't like telling jokes. He should probably keep working on it though, because she didn’t really understand the punchline and pulled away to tell him as such, but the words caught in her throat. Because he was looking at her with what-is-a-knock-knock-joke seriousness, which didn't make any sense because of course they know each other.

But Daphne was nothing if not an incurable optimist. “Don’t be silly, you know me! I'm Daphne!”

“I'm sorry but. . .I don't believe I remember you.”

Relda started to catch on and she gave Sabrina one last worried look before going to her other granddaughter. Canis looked at her – confused and cautious and without a single shred of recognition.

(It's a familiar expression – but one she hasn't seen since he showed up on her doorstep all those years ago.)

“Old friend,” Relda sighed, gently pulling Daphne off him.

“Mr. Canis?” she whimpered from her grandmother’s arms. Canis glanced around the cramped cabin like he was expecting a second Mr. Canis to spring up from the blood-stained floorboards. 

“Why doesn't he remember us?” Daphne asked, dragging her eyes from Canis's confused face to her grandmother's.

Relda sighed because this is why she didn't like magic, why she only used it as a last resort because it took and took and took until you realized too late how heavy a price it asked. But how do you explain that to a child?

“The kazoo must have had some side effects,” she said at last. The object in question sat innocently on the bedside table like it was unaware of the power buried in its plastic depths. Like it hadn’t torn yet another hole in her family.

“Side effects?” Daphne asked with all the innocence Sabrina had been protecting for so long.

The complete lack of recollection on his face as Canis looked at Relda tore at her heart, hot and painful. For years, they'd only had each other. He'd been there as she mourned Basil, as Jake left and Henry soon followed suit. He'd stayed, steady and strong, as her family dwindled down one by one.

And now she was a stranger to him.

“Magic always has a price,” she said, her echoed words sounding hollow.

Like I said, pity who ask magic for what they can’t repay.


End file.
